MATRIMONIAL EXPEDIENCY.

They were two daughters of one race:

One dead, the other took her place;

Brotherly love? oh! fiddle-de-dee!

The Noes were but one forty-four;

I'm backed by retrospective law;

Oh! the Ayes were two forty-three!

Who'd run a tilt 'gainst common sense?

I married for convenience;

Brotherly love? oh! fiddle-de-dee!

'Tis wiser th' ills we know to bear,

Than run the chance of worse elsewhere;

Oh! the Ayes were two forty-three!

Twice married—but I'm bound to state

Th' expediency of this is great;

Brotherly love? oh! fiddle-de-dee!

I'm now no worse off than before,

I only have one mother-in-law,

And she's one too many for me!


A good many years ago a little volume, entitled "Carols of Cockayne," written by the late Mr. Henry S. Leigh, (who died June, 1883) had considerable success. It contained a number of Ballads and Parodies, and amongst others two amusing imitations of Tennyson (they can hardly be styled parodies), the first is in answer to the Laureate's somewhat bitter attack on a lady entitled "Lady Clara Vere de Vere:—"

The Lady Clara V. de V.

Presents her very best regards

To that misguided Alfred T.

(With one of her enamell'd cards).

Though uninclin'd to give offence,

The Lady Clara begs to hint

That Master Alfred's common sense

Deserts him utterly in print.

The Lady Clara can but say

That always from the very first

She snubb'd in her decisive way

The hopes that silly Alfred nurs'd.

The fondest words that ever fell

From Lady Clara, when they met,

Were "How d'ye do? I hope you're well!"

Or else "The weather's very wet."

To show a disregard for truth

By penning scurrilous attacks,

Appears to Lady C. in sooth

Like stabbing folks behind their backs.

The age of chivalry, she fears,

Is gone for good, since noble dames

Who irritate low sonneteers

Get pelted with improper names.

The Lady Clara cannot think

What kind of pleasure can accrue

From wasting paper, pens, and ink,

On statements the reverse of true.

If Master Launcelot, one fine day,

(Urged on by madness or by malt,)

Destroy'd himself—can Alfred say

The Lady Clara was in fault?

Her Ladyship needs no advice

How time and money should be spent,

And can't pursue at any price

The plan that Alfred T. has sent.

She does not in the least object

To let the "foolish yeoman" go,

But wishes—let him recollect—

That he should move to Jericho.

The other, a reply to a well known song, is scarcely so good, because it does not follow its original so closely:—